“Do you think he will come back?”
“I do not believe so. Were I in his place I shouldn’t. I will keep awake and watch. That is the prudent thing to do, so you lie down and sleep for the rest of the night.”
Once more Grace took up her vigil, and after a time Emma again dropped off to sleep. The excitement had set Grace’s head aching, and the scalp wound pained her frightfully. She tried to lie back and doze, but did not succeed. Suddenly three shots, revolver shots, she decided, aroused Grace to instant alertness.
Listening intently, she heard three answering shots.
“A signal! Emma, wake up!”
“Wha—at is it?” cried Miss Dean, starting up heavy-eyed, swaying a little as she got wearily to her feet.
“Shots up the canyon. They were signal shots, too. We must put out the fire and get away from here. Help me fetch water from the stream to douse the fire. Take your hat. Be lively!”
The fire being low, only a few hatfuls were necessary to extinguish it. This done, Grace threw boughs from their bed over the heap of ashes, then grabbing Emma by a hand fairly dragged her across the stream and on a few yards to the opposite base of the mountain.
“Climb, but be careful!” directed Grace.
The two girls scrambled up the mountainside until it grew so steep that they could go no further.